


midnight blue

by neverlxnd



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Cute, First Love, Flowers, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hanahaki Disease, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned NCT Dream Ensemble, Minor Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Slow Burn, Time Skips, i cried, lots of cheesy shit, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 01:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverlxnd/pseuds/neverlxnd
Summary: donghyuck's known mark for two years, he only spends three months of that time in love with markordonghyuck coughs up blue rose petals, mark's favorite flower





	midnight blue

**Author's Note:**

> why do i do this to myself

If there is anything that Hyuck thinks is worse than dying alone, it’s dying of heartache. Nobody has been close enough to him that he ended catching feelings, he’s only ever loved someone so much that he thinks of them as family. Dying of a broken heart wasn’t high on his list of possibilities in his life, but looking down into his hands where the midnight blue rose petals lay scattered in his hands, he thinks that maybe possibilities are overrated. He’s heard so many stories about people coughing up the flowers, the person explaining the pain of unrequited love rather than the pain of the tightness in their chest. Despite hearing people’s different versions of the Hanahaki disease, he never once in his life guessed he would ever have it–especially when he never realized he loved Mark.

The morning he raises in his bed, coughing up the blue petals, is the morning he begins to panic. What was he supposed to do? He’s never loved someone that way, so why was he coughing up blue roses? The next day during lunch, it’s the exact moment where he excuses himself to the bathroom and throws up a batch of blue and wills himself not to cry as he flushes the petals down the toilet. The day after that, he realizes he’s in love with Mark–and then it becomes clear on why he’s been waking up in the middle of the night with a stuffy chest and coughing until blue covers his hands and bed sheets. Of course, telling his parents is a given, but the first person he ends up telling is his best friend (next to Mark), Jaemin.

“You have to tell him,” Jaemin urges.

“Like hell,” Hyuck snaps. “I just realized I’m in love with my best friend, if I just figured that out now then what does he have figured out?”

Jaemin sighs. “Hyuck, it’s either you tell Mark and talk things out or you get the surgery done.”

Right. The surgery. Maybe it won’t be so bad, he thinks.

“Would it be so bad?” Hyuck asks, looking down at his lap.

Unless Mark is in love with him too, the only other exit route is to get it removed through surgery. But of course,

“Hyuck,” Jaemin murmurs. “You can’t be serious. If you do the surgery, your feelings will go with it.”

“But isn’t that good?” Hyuck picks at the hangnail on his pinky.

“Hyuck,” Jaemin repeats, enveloping him into a hug. “Please, just talk to Mark first.”

Mark is the second person he tells.

With a promise to Jaemin, Hyuck does talk to Mark. He’s not sure what he’s going to say exactly, but he figures anything will work besides ‘please love me so I won’t die’. He brings it up when they’re sitting in Mark’s bedroom, a movie playing on Mark’s laptop. He hasn’t been paying attention as much as he should, not with the way he focuses on stifling his coughing and timing his bathroom breaks accordingly, except he miscounts an hour and ends up having a coughing fit during the climax of the movie. Mark’s favorite part of movies is always the climax, he used to tell him how he liked when everything broke so he can see how things would be rebuilt.

Hyuck doubles over the side of Mark’s bed, coughing furiously and clutching at his chest. He stumbles off of the bed, ignoring Mark’s concerned calls and makes a dart for the bathroom. With each step he can feel the petals fluttering their way up his throat from his chest, his legs becoming weak until he can’t stand. Fortunately, he makes it the bathroom in time where his knees meet the tiles in front of the toilet. His stomach clenches and his chest tightens when he feels the rose petals come up and fall into the toilet. Over the course of the week, the petals started out small. A petal or two turned into a handful, which then turned into a bowl full of petals until his backyard was filled with the blue rose petals from throwing them out in garbage bags. Thankfully, this time he only throws up a handful, but the pain in his chest is unbearable. Alongside coughing up flowers, the root of the problem lies in his chest where the stems begin to clog his ribs, the thorns poking at his chest. He doesn’t know when he got there, but Mark is by his side and kneeling bedside him.

“Hyuck,” Mark softly murmurs.

He can hear the disbelief in Mark’s voice, the surprise filling each molecule in the air between them.

“What–when did this start?” Mark asks, wrapping an arm around Hyuck.

Hyuck coughs, a brittle petal falling into his lap. “I don’t know. Sometime last week.”

Mark baffles. “Last week? Hyuck, do your parents know?”

Hyuck shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“You have to tell them. I’ll call them, I’ll text them, hold on I–“

“Mark, stop,” Hyuck says weakly, holding onto his wrist.

“Who is it? You have to tell whoever it is, Hyuck.”

Hyuck’s not sure why it hurts so much to hear Mark say that, he’s not sure why the tightness in his chest gets impossibly insufferable. His body racks as he lurches forward and hurls another batch of blue petals.

“Hyuck, please tell me. Who is it? It’s going to kill you,” Mark hushes, rubbing circles onto his back.

Hyuck wishes he had another way of telling his best friend of two years he’s in love with him, wishes he wasn’t leaning over a toilet about to confess that he is the reason why he’s coughing up roses; Mark’s favorite flower. Hyuck weakly turns his head so his cheek leans against the toilet seat, normally he’d be disgusted but he’s been puking blue roses from unrequited love, so what could be worse? He lazily smiles at Mark before closing his eyes and trying to settle the pain in chest and throat, and then he says,

“It’s you, Mark.”

The boy’s hand discontinues the rubbing on his back, his fingers suddenly tensing. Hyuck didn’t want to believe that Mark didn’t feel the same way, he let himself think that maybe, just maybe, Mark loves him back. It was a silly idea, he thinks.

“You don’t feel the same way, Mark, do you?” Hyuck asks, eyes still closed.

When he doesn’t get an answer, he takes the silence as a response and he lazily chuckles.

“I thought so. It’s okay, Mark, you don’t have to worry about it.”

The third and fourth he tells are his parents. The obvious reaction is apparent, crying and apologizing that he has to go through this so young. He’s an only child, so even though he doesn’t want to live without knowing what loving Mark feels like, he’d rather not make his parents cry and wish he was still alive. So then the topic of the surgery comes up, the next day they schedule the appointment, to which comes two days after, then he’s lying in a hospital bed and staring at the ceiling.

“So,” Jaemin clears his throat from beside the bed. “How do you feel?”

Hyuck turns his head, leaning his cheek against the lumpy pillow to look at Jaemin.

“Better. I don’t know, I feel normal. I thought I would feel different, but the only thing that’s different now is how light my chest feels.” Hyuck shrugs, turning to look back at the ceiling.

“Jeno coughed up dandelion petals,” Jaemin murmurs into the quiet.

“When?”

“A couple weeks ago.”

Hyuck hums. “Wait,” he turns to look at Jaemin. “Aren’t dandelions your favorite?”

Jaemin nods, shyly smiling to himself. Hyuck can sense there’s guilt in the lining of Jaemin’s smile, so he reaches his hand over the bar to grab Jaemin’s and smiles.

“Nana, it’s okay. I’m happy for you–and Jeno.”

When he gets discharged from the hospital and goes back to school, he expects the students to murmur about the surgery, about who he might’ve fallen in love with. What he doesn’t expect is Mark avoiding him. All day, he’s been catching Mark’s silhouette in the halls, the boy turning around and going in the opposite direction just at the right time. He finally manages to find Mark sitting alone in the library during his free period. Before when he used to sit down with Mark, smile and say ‘hey’, his day would brighten and he felt better, but now when he sits down in front of Mark, he can’t feel anything.

Mark looks up from his textbook, avoiding eye contact but still mumbling a ‘hey’.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Hyuck points out.

“I haven’t,” Mark bites his lip.

“You have. Look, I know you might feel awkward about it, trust me, but everything I felt for you is gone now. We can put everything in the past and just be friends again,” Hyuck frowns.

Mark nods. “I’m sorry. I should’ve came to see you in the hospital, I just didn’t know if you…wanted me there.”

“I mean, it would’ve been nice but like I said; it’s in the past now.”

“How do you feel?” Mark asks softly, finally looking up from his textbook to look at Hyuck.

He shrugs. “Like I can breathe again.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Needless to say, it’s awkward for them for a couple weeks after that. Eventually, they slip back into themselves the way they were before Hyuck began coughing up the petals. He’s grateful that Mark didn’t let something like this get in the way, he’s heard of people distancing themselves after the surgery so he was worried, but Mark is always there to assure him that they’re fine.

One particular night when Mark’s parents are gone, Hyuck invites himself over and suggests that the boy throws a party.

“Come on! You have the house to yourself for the whole weekend, it’s basically law to throw a party,” Hyuck exasperates.

Beside him, Mark groans and tosses his head back onto the couch.

“Fine,” Mark mumbles, resulting in Hyuck thrusting his fists in the air. “But you’re helping me clean the mess.”

Hyuck texts Jaemin, who texts Jeno, who then gets the word out until Mark’s living room is filled with kids from their school while bass-boosted music plays from the speakers on Mark’s surround sound. Somewhere during the night, Mark ends up in the kitchen by himself while he watches a mess form in his house. Hyuck left somewhere sometime an hour ago, complaining that he needs more friends if he’s going to be the prom king next year.

“It’s so cool of you to stay friends with Hyuck.”

Mark turns his head to the voice, surprised to find Arin, one of his classmates, standing beside him with a red cup in hand.

“What?”

“The Hanahaki disease? Hyuck?” Arin raises her eyebrow.

Mark frowns. He and Hyuck haven’t really talked that much about the disease after his surgery, but he’s pretty sure Hyuck doesn’t exactly want it known that he got it.

“What are you talking about?”

Arin smiles innocently at him, tilting her head. “Mark, we all know that Hyuck had the Hanahaki disease. Then he mysteriously gets admitted into the hospital for a couple weeks? It’s obvious.”

Mark swishes his drink around in his cup, marveling in the way the cola raises bubbles to the surface before popping.

“I just think it was nice of you to stay friends with Hyuck,” Arin repeats. “Not many people stick around after finding out their best friend is in love with them.”

He’s not sure what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He chooses to take a sip of his drink and lean back against the counter.

“Have you ever been in love?” Arin asks, peering up at Mark through her lashes.

He should be finding her pretty, he should be marveling in counting her eyelashes and gushing about how pretty her skin is, but the only thing he’s thinking about is how he can’t imagine Hyuck not in his life so of course he was going to stick around after the surgery.

“I don’t think so,” Mark mumbles.

“Would you ever want to find out?” Arin asks.

Before he has the chance to answer, he turns to look at the figure passing through the door and quickly puts the name Hyuck to the face. Said boy pushes through bodies until he’s by the counter and grabbing a red cup. Hyuck has always had a good sense of fashion, priding himself in the way he dresses and Mark can only think about the red short-sleeved button up hugging his shoulders and tucked into Hyuck’s favorite pair of black jeans. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Hyuck looks up from his cup, smiling warm at him before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, gesturing to Arin beside him. Oh right, Mark remembers, suddenly aware of Arin’s presence beside him. Hyuck gives him one last smile before exiting the kitchen and disappearing into the crowd of bodies.

“Mark?” Arin’s voice is persistent.

He watches the back of Hyuck’s red button up, wondering if the boy would’ve been jealous if he hadn’t gotten the surgery. He scares himself when he briefly wishes that Hyuck had been jealous, wondering why exactly he was thinking that about his best friend, who loved him not even two months ago.

“Yeah,” Mark suddenly says without looking at Arin. “I would like to find out.”

They’re all sitting together at lunch when Mark has another scary thought, the reason it’s brought up though is even more testing. They’re eating in silence when Hyuck suddenly speaks up.

“I never asked, but Jeno,” said boy looks away from Jaemin with awaiting eyes. “What does it feel like?” Hyuck asks.

Jeno’s confusion reflects on everyone’s faces, Renjun being the most confused.

“What do you mean, Hyuck?” Jeno asks, sensing an off vibe already.

“Well, you know. Since I got the surgery I wouldn’t know what it’s like to have the stems go away,” Hyuck simple says.

The whole table stills and creates a tense aura between them. It’s almost too stuffy that Mark wants to get up from the table, but he stays put.

“Well?” Hyuck repeats. “I don’t want you guys to be weird about this, please. I’m just curious because Jaemin reciprocated and I want to know what it felt like.”

Jeno looks at Jaemin with uncertainty, when his boyfriend nods, he turns back to Hyuck and clears his throat.

“Well, I don’t know. Uh, the stems go down first. They shrivel up until you have to digest them.”

“Do you still cough up the flowers?” Hyuck eagerly asks, unbothered by the tension.

“Uh,” Jeno clears his throat again and Mark catches Jaemin reassuringly rubbing his back. “I used to, when the stems were going down they would come up sometimes. They don’t anymore though, not since Jaemin said he…loves me.”

Hyuck grins, clapping his hands. “Well, alright! That sounds so romantic, I’m so happy for you guys. I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me right away.”

“You were in the hospital, Hyuck,” Jaemin scoffs. “The timing wasn’t right.”

Hyuck shrugs. “Hospital shmoshpital. It would’ve made me happy anyway.”

Suddenly Mark has an overwhelming need to apologize.

“I’m sorry Hyuck,” he blurts. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do that for you.”

Hyuck must sense the way everybody holds their breath, the guilt he feels in his heart for not returning his best friend’s feelings before the surgery.

“Mark, for the billionth time–it’s okay. I’m fine, I’m here and alive, right?” Hyuck groans. “I could’ve died, it’s completely okay that I got the surgery and it’s not your fault for not feeling the same way.”

Mark eyes the beauty mark on Hyuck’s left cheekbone, and he’s suddenly aware of how much prettier it makes him.

“But, Hyuck,” he tries.

Hyuck groans in frustration, standing up and grabbing his bag.

“But nothing! Can’t you see that I’m okay? I’m breathing and not retching out petals anymore. I’m fully capable of myself and I’m not a piece of glass, so stop skirting around me,” Hyuck snaps. Then with a sigh, “and that goes for all of you. I love you all, but _please_ I’m fine.”

As Mark watches Hyuck stomp out of the cafeteria, he’s still apologizing to Hyuck in his head. Not because he couldn’t return the feelings, but because he feels terrible for wishing Hyuck was coughing the flowers up again.

Hyuck’s a strong person, a capable person indeed, but sometimes strong people need a pit stop to unload. That’s exactly what happens when Mark knocks on the door of Hyuck’s bedroom door, pausing before opening the door and poking his head in. Hyuck is in the center of his bed, wrapped in his duvet and leaning his back against the headboard. Mark can easily tell by Hyuck’s sniffing that the boy’s been crying, not only that but when he sits down next to Hyuck, his eyes are red and puffy.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mark asks, holding his hand back from rubbing Hyuck’s arm.

Hyuck sniffs and picks at the hem of his blanket. “Nothing.”

“Hyuck, come on. You don’t have to lie to me,” Mark tries, his fingers itching in his lap.

“I’m not lying, I’m fine,” Hyuck mumbles.

“Okay, so then why haven’t you been answering our texts? Why are you crying?”

“I told you it’s nothing,” the boy sneers.

“Clearly it’s _something_ if you’re crying.” Mark reaches his hand up but retracts it, not knowing exactly where his boundaries are anymore.

The action causes Hyuck to let out a frustrated groan, his body bending forward so he can press the heels of his palms against his eyes.

“Stop treating me like that!” Hyuck exclaims, his voice muffled.

Mark frowns. “Like what?” He asks calmly.

“Like I’m going to break! I’m not a package that says ‘fragile’ on it, okay? I-I can handle myself, I just need you guys to be my friends again,” Hyuck sniffs.

Mark finally ignores his brain and wraps his arm around Hyuck, moving around on the bed so he can lay his back against the headboard before bringing Hyuck to lay against his chest. The boy continues to sob, his body shaking against Mark’s and he can feel Hyuck’s tears soaking through his shirt–it takes everything for him to not cry with him.

“I’m sorry, Hyuck. We didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” Mark starts. “We’re just worried.”

“Well, you have nothing to worry about, I’m fine,” Hyuck murmurs.

“Can I see the scar?” Mark asks, surprising himself.

Hyuck hesitantly looks up at Mark, raising his head off his chest and wiping the tip of his nose from where the tears fell. A moment of silence passes before Hyuck wordlessly nods, sitting up so the blanket falls from his shoulders. With flushed cheeks, Hyuck unbuttons the top three buttons of his pyjama shirt and looks anywhere but Mark’s face. It’s a gravitational pull for Mark, his hand moves before his mind and he brushes the tips of his fingers along the bumpy stitches just beneath Hyuck’s collarbone. The cut is smaller than he thought, the beginning of the stitches starting underneath his clavicle and stopping just above the middle of his ribcage.

“Is that the only thing bothering you?” Mark suddenly asks.

Hyuck opens his mouth only for him to close it. He shakes his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want you to apologize again, I just–“ Hyuck stops himself, struggling to find the right words. “It feels strange.”

“What feels strange?”

“I have all of these saved emotions, like there’s an archive in my body and it’s harboring all of these things.”

“What things?”

Hyuck sighs, buttoning up his pyjama shirt. “I remember the way I used to feel when you smiled at me. I can imagine my heart beating faster, but now when I look at you there’s nothing and it’s empty.”

Hyuck’s crying again and it takes less than a second for Mark to pull him back into his arms, cradling him and comfortably rubbing up and down his arms. The boy’s body racks with sobs once again and Mark closes his eyes.

“It just feels overwhelming remembering everything I used to feel, knowing I was in love with you. There’s n-nothing now, I’m empty when I’m with you.”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, Mark thinks. Hearing from his best friend that he feels nothing when they’re together. It only adds to the growing pile of scary thoughts he’s been having lately. Mark can only say one thing as he soothingly runs his fingers through Hyuck’s hair.

“You’re still the same person, Hyuck, it’s okay.”

He’s sitting on the rooftop of Hyuck’s house, beside said boy when a shooting star goes by.

“I wish I wasn’t mad hungry right now,” Hyuck sighs, closing his eyes and opening them after he makes his wish.

Mark snorts. “You’re not supposed to say it out loud, Hyuck. It won’t come true now.”

Hyuck shrugs beside him. “I could always raid your fridge.”

The stars above them cast a fluorescent glow onto their faces, the moon doing its job of illuminating everything that catches light. The air around them is slowly beginning to bite at his arms and he guesses Hyuck feels the same because the boy shuffles closer to his side and curls into him.

“Why didn’t you bring a blanket, dummy,” Hyuck mutters.

“It’s your turn on the roof tonight, why didn’t you bring one?” He bites back.

“Excuse me for the forecasts’ lies, the lady said it was supposed to be a ‘cool summer breeze’ tonight.”

He chuckles and wraps an arm around Hyuck, tugging him closer. Hyuck closes his eyes and sighs.

“Do you still think about the flowers?” He asks randomly.

Ever since that day in Hyuck’s bedroom, he has been more comfortable bringing up Hyuck’s experience with the Hanahaki disease, being braver to ask questions he asks Hyuck at night in his bedroom with no answer.

“Sometimes,” Hyuck hums. “I sort of miss them. They were pretty–well, until I started puking them up,” the boy chuckles.

He looks down at the boy in his arms and nervously gulps when Hyuck’s already looking up at him. Something twinkles in Hyuck’s brown eyes, the light from the moon reflects in his pupils and it sends his heart into panic. When exactly did Hyuck’s eyes become unbearably deep? He then realizes that maybe he’s been swimming in the brown trench that is Hyuck’s eyes a lot lately, and he’s completely fine with that.

“Did Jaemin ever tell you that he coughed up cherry blossoms?” Hyuck suddenly says, closing his eyes.

He shakes his head, scoffing at himself when he realizes Hyuck can’t see him.

“No.”

“He did. It was only for a couple days but then they just disappeared, Jaemin never told anyone that except me. Jeno doesn’t even know.”

“What do you think happened?” He asks.

He feels Hyuck shrug.

“I don’t really know for sure. Jaemin tried searching it up, but didn’t find answers. Well, that is until he went to the doctor.”

“What did they say?”

“The doctor told him the cherry blossoms possibly disappeared because Jeno hadn’t realized his feelings for Jaemin yet. Even though Jeno loved Jaemin, it was still technically unrequited, so they said Jaemin just had to wait. It’s apparently a rare case in the disease.”

“Did Jeno know?”

“Of course not. Jaemin didn’t even tell _me_ until after the flowers went away.”

“So then why did Jeno cough up dandelions?” He asks.

Hyuck shifts in his arms, shivering at the cold invading his side before the boy’s body warmth replaces it.

“I’m not sure. Jaemin said it was because he thought his feelings for Jeno went away because he waited too long, but obviously that wasn’t the case.”

“So then what happened?”

“Jaemin found out Jeno was coughing them up when they were out together. He ended up puking in the theatre bathroom and Jaemin found him in the stall. It was kind of romantic the way Jaemin explained it to me though,” Hyuck snickers. “Leave it to me to botch a story.”

While Hyuck laughs at his own attempt to tell the story, Mark looks down at the boy once again and catches himself being memorized by his beauty for the nth time these past couple weeks. Hyuck’s skin has always been so golden, deep and rich that he can’t help but admire the boy’s melanin skin tone. If you asked Mark what his favorite part of the day was, he would say sunset on Wednesdays because Wednesdays were for their stargazing. The other would come over, they’d bring snacks and sit on either one’s rooftop and wait for the sun to go down. While they waited, the sun would stay in the sky and slowly cascade down, but that’s not what Mark’s favorite part of the sun setting was–no. Mark’s favorite part about sunset is reveling in the beauty of Hyuck’s glowing skin, tripping himself into a tundra that is only Lee Donghyuck. The sun rays do nothing but add to the golden shine and after, even though the sun has set, Hyuck’s still radiating. The moonlight reflects off his skin, the fluorescent of silver and white illuminating everything that was once golden.

That’s how he always finds himself staring down at Hyuck’s star shone cheeks at 11:34pm every Wednesday night. Then, there it is again–the scary thoughts. He doesn’t let it bother him anymore, the way he thinks about Hyuck’s hair through his fingers, how he submits into the boy’s brown eyes, when he thinks a little too much about just how soft Hyuck’s lips might be, the way his heart speeds up when the boy happens to brush his fingers with his own.

“I’m really glad we’re still friends, Mark,” Hyuck suddenly admits.

It stirs him away from his thoughts and he ends up looking up at the moon and it’s children of stars.

“Me too,” he mumbles into the air.

“I used to look at you and feel so much love. When I looked in your eyes, all I saw was brown dips and sparkles. Anytime I had the chance to hold your hand, I took it because my body would feel warm and I’d feel safe next to you.”

Mark tries his best to not tense up, he doesn’t want Hyuck to feel any reason to not trust him anymore, to not distance themselves again.

“And now?” He asks.

Hyuck sighs. “I don’t feel anything.”

He finds himself wanting to apologize again, not because Hyuck doesn’t feel anything towards him anymore, but because he wishes he realized the beauty in Hyuck sooner.

It’s not a shock when he wakes up in the middle of the night, the gruff itch in his throat waking him from his slumber. He checks his phone for the time and grimaces at the bold _4:14am_. The itch in his throat doesn’t clear up when he coughs once, twice, but after the third cough it’s gone–followed by the long thin petal of a sunflower.

His body racks with each cough and he can’t help but feel guilt because Hyuck went through this exact same thing, and it was all because he was too late. Eventually he falls back asleep, just when the sun rises and he ends up missing school. He doesn’t tell his parents, he doesn’t tell his best friend (next to Hyuck) Renjun, instead he sits in his bed and thinks that– _maybe I deserve this_. He can see his phone screen lighting up with each text from his worried friends, but what exactly was he supposed to say? He can’t tell them the reason why he missed school all day is because he coughed up sunflower petals last night. Except he has no other choice when Renjun ends up standing at the foot of his bed with a nonplussed expression on his face. Without saying a word, Renjun kicks off his shoes and joins Mark on the bed before cradling him against his chest.

“It’s going to be okay, Mark.”

For the first time since he started coughing, he cries.

It’s quite inevitable to hide the Hanahaki disease, especially when you’re best friends with Hyuck. So it comes as a surprise to Mark when he realizes Hyuck hasn’t been messaging him or trying to call–especially when they’re neighbors. Renjun had told him that Hyuck’s been busy with school and homework, so he doesn’t answer people’s texts lately. Renjun didn’t tell anybody that Mark’s started coughing up sunflower petals, choosing to say he’s sick with the flu instead. Of course, no one buys it and refuse to take the excuse unless he comes back to school feeling better. Eventually his parents find out and their first initial reaction is, ‘who is it?’. He doesn’t answer, instead asking them to wait for him while he makes a decision on what to do. Mark thinks that’s wishful thinking.

One morning when he wakes up at two in the morning, he’s sitting on the bathroom floor and leaning over the toilet seat while he stares at the yellow petals floundering in the water. Sunflowers are so _perfect_ for Hyuck, he thinks. The petals are small, like Hyuck, but also like the boy the flower has petals upon petals to create a big picture that is a magnum opus–Hyuck has layers just like a sunflower, and he’s bright just like a sunflower.

While staring at the yellow petal swirling in the bowl and he feels the stem nudging against his ribcage, he decides now is as good of anytime to tell Hyuck. So with all of the strength he can muster, he pulls himself up off the floor and opens the door to his bathroom. He ignores everything around him in favor of getting through the front door of his house and into the backyard of Hyuck’s. The rocks beneath his feet are average sized but hopefully not big enough to cause any damage, so he picks up a pebble or two and aims it at Hyuck’s window. A pained groan leaves his lips when he swing his arm and shoots the rock at the house, just barely hitting the bottom corner of the window. He waits a moment before taking the second rock and biting his lip to relieve some of the pain that comes in his ribs when he throws his arm back again. After two seconds pass, the curtains of Hyuck’s window are pulled back and said boy is frantically looking around before he settles down below on Mark. He watches Hyuck furrow his eyebrows before opening the window and sticking his head out.

“Mark? It’s two in the morning, what are you doing here?” Hyuck shouts in a whisper.

“I need you to come down,” Mark shouts back.

Hyuck looks back into his room, biting his lip nervously before turning back to look at him.

“I-I don’t know if I can.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a bad time, Mark. Go home and get some rest, don’t you have the flu?”

“So you _do_ know I’m sick?” He asks.

Hyuck sighs. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I haven’t visited you, but I will soon.”

“But I need you _now_ , Hyuck.”

Maybe it’s the desperation in his voice or the pleading in his eyes, but he hears Hyuck sigh before murmuring a soft, ‘okay’ and closes the window. Not even two minutes later, the backdoor on Hyuck’s patio opens and the boy comes out wrapped in a blanket. Now that Hyuck’s in front of him, he can see the lack of color in the boy’s face, the downward drag of his eyes that makes him look _so_ sad.

“Hey,” Hyuck murmurs.

Mark almost forgets that he’s here, that he isn’t watching this from his window or in a dream. He coughs once and stifles the petals in his throat that are threatening to spill.

“Hey Hyuck.”

“What did you need?” Hyuck asks, suddenly reminding him why he’s in his best friend’s backyard.

“Remember last week when you told me about all of those things you felt?” He asks.

Hyuck’s heart races and his breathe hitches. “Yeah?”

“This is going to sound crazy, and it’s really unfair of me to do this,” he starts, pausing to cough. “But I like when you smile really big and it stretches your lips so far that all of your teeth show, I like when it reaches your eyes and they shine as bright as your personality. I like it when you try to tell a story and you get sidetracked, or leave out an important part because even though it means re-listening to the story, it also means that I get to hear you talk more. You’re so beautiful and I used to wonder why you have so many of those beauty marks, but now I see it’s because _you_ are a beauty.”

“It’s too late for me, Hyuck. I should’ve said this a long time ago and I should’ve done something more, but I’m in love with you Hyuck.”

On cue, his chest gets tight like a balloon being blown up to its capacity before it lets go and flattens. The pressure in his throat gets heavier and he grips his hand onto the railing so he won’t fall over. He coughs furiously, his other hand clutching at his chest as he tries to breathe desperately for air. A cluster of yellow sunflower petals fall out of his mouth and cascade onto the wooden steps of Hyuck’s patio. Said boy stays quiet and unmoving, the blanket slowly slipping down his shoulders.

“I didn’t deserve the love you had for me, all of those things you told me you felt before the surgery, I’m worthy of _none._ I didn’t mean to come by to try and make you feel guilty, this is only my fault and I just wanted to make sure you know I’m sorry.”

“How is this possible?” Hyuck mumbles.

Mark thinks he hears Hyuck wrong, possibly due to the fact that he’s sick to his bones, but when he looks up at Hyuck, the boy is staring at him in disbelief.

“Are you mad?” He asks.

Hyuck shakes his head before taking tentative steps towards him and reaching for his hand. Once his fingers reach Hyuck’s, the pressure in his throat goes down slightly and the pain in his chest subsides the tiniest bit.

“Mark–“

Whatever Hyuck was going to say gets cut off as the boy’s shoulders begin to shake while he coughs. Mark’s eyes widen at the sight of Hyuck’s fragile state and he does the only thing he knows how to do. He hugs him. He wraps his arms around the boy and slowly sinks them down on the wooden planks of the patio, cradling Hyuck in his arms. If he had known the pain would be bearable just by having Hyuck so close to him, maybe he would’ve came by sooner. Hyuck’s coughs get more vigorous, Mark wincing with each bark until it all stops at once. But then, he looks down at the boy in his arms with confusion as Hyuck regrettably looks up from his hand where a blue rose petal lay in his palm.

“I have to tell you something,” Hyuck softly says.

“Hyuck, what–“

“They came back. I don’t know how, but that night on the roof I–I woke up in the middle of the night and started coughing. It wouldn’t stop, nothing was helping until the coughing became too much and I threw up.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks.

“What was I supposed to say? I already went through this because you didn’t love me, would you have told me if your feelings were so strong they came back?”

Mark blinks, unsure of what to say. “How…how is this possible?” He asks.

Hyuck shrugs in his arms. “I don’t know.”

“So what do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Hyuck repeats.

It’s only now that he realizes the smallest of petals growing from underneath Hyuck’s shirt, the tips of blue poking out of his skin near his collarbones.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, gesturing to the flowers growing out of his chest, right where the scar is.

Hyuck lazily chuckles, and it’s a nice change of sound around them. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Strangely, it doesn’t hurt. The pain is still there in his chest but it’s dull, almost like how it was the night after he first started coughing up the golden petals.

“It still hurts but I can barely feel it,” he explains, dropping his head on top of Hyuck’s.

Hyuck hums and he doesn’t have to look to know that the boy’s eyes are closed.

“Change your mind about being in love with me?” Hyuck asks.

“Absolutely not,” he says without skipping a beat.

“Good, neither have I.”

The next morning when Hyuck’s parents find the two boys sleeping on the patio, their first instinct is to scold them but then they notice the beautiful mess of yellow and blue petals covering the deck surrounding them, and they don’t say a word.

It’s Wednesday, three weeks after that night on Hyuck’s patio and they’re sitting on Mark’s rooftop outside his bedroom window. It seems silly to think that there was a time when Mark thought of Hyuck only as a friend.

“Johnny-hyung told me he has cassia petals,” Hyuck says, tracing circles on Mark’s chest.

“Really?” Mark asks, raising his eyebrows in worry.

“Well, he told my mom and I happened to be listening,” Hyuck corrects.

“What’s a Cassia?” Mark asks.

“I’m not sure, but I think it’s yellow.”

“I’m sure whoever he’s in love with will love him back,” Mark says.

Hyuck notices he’s been tracing out the lines of a stem this whole time, he sighs softly to himself and snuggles into Mark’s side.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Hyuck. Always.”

❁

**Author's Note:**

> fun fact, this was originally supposed to end when mark coughed up the sunflower petal


End file.
